Life is Pooey
by EbilGenius
Summary: Letty never meant for her boarding school in England to be closed. But now she's stuck dressing like a boy, in a camp with no lake. Rated for language and supernatural themes. Please R&R.
1. The Yellow Bus of DOOM!

_**Disclaimer: None of the original characters or ideas from Holes are mine. Morgan T Lee (Montana) and Jose' 'Santa' Cruz belong to Matthew Reilly. However, Leticia Von Barron and her friends and family are all characters from my own slightly demented brain. The Oompa Loompas' belong to Roald Dahl.**_

_**This is my first attempt at a proper fanfiction. Constructive criticism will be loved.**_

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_Friday 10th November, 4:03PM_

_I am sitting in a big bus. A big yellow bus, I might add. It's not a nice double Decker bus like back home in England, It is an ugly, horrible, smelly bus. That's the end of my bus rant. I suppose I'd better write about myself incase I ever decide to sell this diary. If I ever catch...Him. My name is Leticia Von Barron. I was born and raised in Surrey, a place in England. Oh yeah, and I'm dressed up as a boy. Just before you go on, I am not a transvestite, or anything like that. You see, I used to be a normal girl, until two months ago. Yes, two months ago, when my dad, was arrested for a felony that he did not commit, and my mother and sister were kidnapped by an evil man. A man whose name currently escapes me. Not to mention that my brother is nowhere to be found. He was declared a missing person five days ago. And to think, the only reason I know that is because I read the newspaper in Hartford Hall._

I shoved my pen bag into my rucksack and glanced over my work. The writing was bumpy, uneven and almost resembled a scribble. It was all the stupid bloody bus drivers fault. He probably got his licence from a pub...Like my Uncle Barry. The grumpy man sitting by the door kept on giving each one of us a look of loathing, in between falling asleep and picking his nose(I swear, I've seen him do it). I turned my head slightly to look at the holes again. looking at holes is not fun. And neither is dressing up like a full on boy, especially if you're a twelve year old girl who is starting to...grow. You know what I mean.

It was boiling hot, my palms were sweaty and I had an immense headache. This was probably due to the fact that the idiot behind me was poking my head with a sharp object. Oh yes, I think I forgot to mention that I was travelling with the goons from Hartford Hall in England. Hartford Hall is a crumbly old building in south east England. Or was a crumbly old building in south east England. It was demolished a few days ago, after the evil blood sucking monsters (AKA The councillors)shipped us off to this Camp Green Lake. And so far, I see no lake. Ha! False advertising! The owner of this camp shall go jail! You hear me, you villain! Jail! Oh god, where are my pills. My thoughts were suddenly interrupted with a bang! My head hit the window with medium force, as did many others, because I could hear them cursing. What was happening? A twister? An earthquake? Dozens of young juvenile delinquents trying to tip us over? No. It was just the bus driver stopping the vehicle.

Evil Mr.Nosepicker thrust open the doors and began shoving us out. Well he tried. When he came to Mairie MacDonald she nearly broke his neck. She obviously didn't care about the rifle hanging from his belt. After that we got out by ourselves. The heat was killing me! England isn't exactly the warmest place on earth, and being dressed in my old Hartford Hall uniform didn't help. Long pants, white shirts and blazers didn't belong in the same context as Camp Green Lake(Which doesn't appear to have a lake). After bumping into numerous ex-Hartforders, and almost being concussed by a certain Mairie MacDonald, I decided to watch where I was going. We were being herded to a small shack at the edge of what seemed to be a group of brand new buildings. In fact, this shack was the only old building in the area. So along we trotted, to the rotting old shack. So make a long story short, the first five people went in, in alphabetical order. After about half an hour they came out again, each with a tiny slip of paper in their damp hands. A piece of tumbleweed rolled over the floor, and a door slammed. That was unfortunate, because I was practising being macho. It's hard to breathe when you have a bandana around the bottom half of your face to cover up your feminini-nini...Whatever. A strange man in a pink shirt sauntered out through the doorway, and stood on a balcony. He stepped into the light and for a split second we saw his face. The face of impending doom.

Once again, he stepped forward and the light fell on his face. _Urgh!_ It scared me so very much. He was wearing a cowboy hat, and I thought he looked quite like a pig who had met a somewhat stoned plastic surgeon. You can imagine the rest of _that _story. He spat out whatever he was chewing and began to speak. I could hardly understand him through his heavy Texan accent.

"My name is Mr.Sir. You are to call me that at all times. Now listen hard. This ain't no girl scout camp, ye' hear me? While ye'r here, ye'll be workin' hard, diggin' one hole a day, five feet by five feet. Same size as yer' shovel." He drawled. The man wasn't making any sense! What's he going on about? Holes! Murmurs of confusion seeped through the crowd.

"QUIET!" He bellowed, "I forgot to tell ye'. This here's a reformation cen're fer juvenile delinquents. Specifically boys. Obviously, this is gon' change. But as I said b'fore, this here ain't no girl scout camp. Ye'll be diggin' holes. And lots of 'em. Yeah. One hole a day. Now, look around ya. Ya see anything?"

A murmur of "Not really"'s and random wretching sounds followed from the crowd.

"No guard towers, no electric fences; If ye wanna run away, go! The longest ye'll last is three days. Ye know why? We got the only water source in one hundred miles." He said, finishing with a smirk. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was happy to be living in this dump. "Also, be careful of rattlesnakes and scorpions. But their bites won't kill ya... Usually. One thing ye'd better watch out for though," he continued, "Is yellow spotted lizards. If one of them gets at ya' ye'll die; slowly and painfully."

I almost didn't hear the last part. He was now in the light fully, and my eyes were looking at the thing in his belt. Well, me and every other kid there.

"I see yer lookin' at my gun. Don't worry, I ain't gonna shoot ya'," he started, "This is fer yellow spotted lizards. I wouldn't waste a bullet on any of ya.". I was seriously getting bored now. He had moved on to breakfast being sometime (I wasn't listening) and how we'd be assigned to tents. _That_ interested me. He began pointing out at random members of the crowd.

"You. A tent, behind that little blonde guy. You, B tent, the girl next to him." He began ordering us to different tents. But I could see no tents. Only wooden buildings. I also kept my eye one Mairie MacDonald and her posse. I didn't want to be in the same building as her. I was in the same school group as her in Hartford Hall, and she is pure evil. All of her hobbies had something to do with sadistic violence in them. And she had taken a special disliking to me, because I'm from Surrey. I swear, that's what she said! Anyway, she and her best friend Mick(Short for Michelle) were assigned the 'D Tent". Slowly, everyone around me was assigned to the tent. Mr.Sir was picking the girls first, and for the moment, I was a bloody _boy_. Eventually, after assigning tents to about twenty people, spitting random stuff from his mouth and shouting at some very frightened looking people who wore orange and resembled overgrown Oompa Loompas, he finally came to me. It seemed like slow motion, (even though it wasn't)but very clearly, he spat out the evil words.

"You. D tent."

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_**That's the end of the first chapter! Yay! It's my first serious attempt at writing a fanfiction, and I'm proud of it, even though it's probably scrappy. 'Life is Pooey' is a mixture of Leticia's diary entries, her life from her point of view, and occasionally flashbacks from other people. Please tell me what you think!-EbilGenius**_


	2. Attack of the Delinquents!

Trust me to get landed with the worst bunch of people in the world. I was stuck with Mairie MacDonald, a solid wall of flesh that resembled a bad clay sculpture rather than a human being, Michelle Nicholson, a thin, weedy girl with the IQ of a paper clip, and random smelly boys that thought I was one of their species. It was quite late, and they hadn't finished digging, so all of us (I.e.. Hartforders)had to stay in our tents. Along with Mairie and Mick there was Louie Fisher, a short guy with hardly any teeth, and a guy called James who I had never really seen before. He was about eleven, a year younger than me. I remember because he was a new entrant at Hartford. And then there was this girl called Annabelle Gates. She was quiet, but not shy. You know, you're probably thinking about how these people don't really seem like delinquents. That's because we aren't. Hartford Hall was a home for children who didn't have anywhere to stay for a period of time. I honestly don't know why we were sent here, to a juvenile delinquent camp. It worries me. I sighed and walked over to the french doors. They were the doors that would be closed to separate the girls and the boys during night time. So I would be locked in a room with a bunch of criminal boys. Hoorah for me. I took the bed in the corner, next to the window. Pulling out my notebook, I started another entry.

_Friday November 10 2005, 4:52PM_

_Here's me, stuck in a camp for young criminals. Knowing Ms. Hartford, it's probably the only place she would pay to come to. Stingy cow. You know, There's one thing that I'm wondering ab-_

I stopped writing and put my pen down. Not for any interesting or particular reason,I'm just that bloody lazy. My bandana was covering my nose and my mouth, and at the back it was covering my short ponytail. I could hardly breath! I was busy swearing to myself when a little man strutted through the door. He was wearing one of those hats that you see in the western movies, and on his nose was a huge blob of sunscreen. Oh yeah, it was Dr.Pendanski. He was the one who brought us to this D tent.

"All right, the boys are finished, they'll be coming in a minute." He chirped, in a voice indicating drug use. We all murmured responses, and got back to whatever we were doing. In my case this was '_Fuck this shit. Whoever invented this thick fucking bandana is a fucking asshole!'. _Dr.Pendanski continued.

"Now, just because you've done some bad things in your life,doesn't mean you're bad people. I want you to know that I respect you."

None of us bothered to mention that we weren't delinquents. Realising that he wasn't wanted, he flounced off, in a way that indicated drug use. Hell, everything about that guy indicated drug use! I flopped back down on the bed that was now mine, for the remainder of my time here, at least. I lay there for about ten minutes, just thinking, when I was disturbed by a girly shriek.

I shot out of bed, holding my bandana to my face. In front of me were half a dozen or so boys, in bright orange jump suits and layers of dust on their faces. The girly shriek came again! And the screamer surprised me. A chubby African-American boy stood with his mouth open, staring at the girls on the other side of the room. If he hadn't just screamed I would have thought him incapable of producing sounds that high! The other guys were also quite odd. There was a short kid that looked like Sideshow Bob from The Simpsons, a boy with curly hair and a round figure, a guy with a toothpick in his mouth, and a hat covering his hair, a dark boy with dirty glasses, a really, really tall guy with hair that resembled a small living creature and a Hispanic guy. I'd never actually seen a Hispanic person before, so I surveyed him with interest. But I stopped, because they might have though I was gay. And that would ruin my plan...Suddenly I realised it had been at least two minutes since the boy had last screamed. No one said anything. All the guys that had walked in were staring at Mick, Annabelle and Mairie. Annabelle, I could understand. She was decent looking. But Mairie and Mick? These guys _had_ to be desperate.

_Finally_ someone spoke up. The black boy with the glasses.

"Yo, you're girls!" He spluttered.

"Yeah. So? Got a problem with that?" Mairie growled back. Even her voice made people cry. But not this guy.

"I haven't seen a girl for!six months!" He mused, or said. Whichever tickles your fancy. "I'm X-Ray." He made a gesture to himself, and began pointing out the other guys. "That's Armpit, excuse his creaming. Over there's Zero. He don't talk to anyone 'cept Caveman, that guy. And Squid," He pointed to the toothpick fairy, "Zigzag," animal guy,"And Magnet." He finished off proudly. He sounded like a gangster. A real American gangster! I giggled inwardly. Yep. I'm going mad.

Louie decided to introduce us.

"Well,I'm Louie Fisher III, and my friend's James Grant. Those girls are Mairie MacDonald, Miche-Err-Mick Nicholson and Annabelle Gates. And This guy's Logan Von Barron."He said, chucking a pen at me. Darling little boy, he is. Everyone grunted, and got aquainted.

"So, what're you in for?" Asked X-Ray? It wasn't really a question, he was just telling us to give him the details. Friendly chap.

"Not in here for nothin'." Mairie started, showcasing her complete disregard for the rules of grammar. "Dad's in jail, mum pissed of last year. The social workers shoved me off to Hartford Hall as soon as my dad was sentenced. It's like, they pretend to care 'bout you,but they don't".

Honestly, I didn't know that. But she seemed to be taking it quite well. Annabelle and Mick both just said they were sent to the Hall by their parents, and Louie and James were their while their parents were on holiday. Yeah, what a bunch of criminals. Finally the scary X-Guy turned to me. "What about you?" He growled.

"I-I...I erm...Well, there was this really nice...lederhosen...No...Um...Dad died when I was 2 months old. M-mum's in h-hospital f-for getting beaten up." I lied, quite unconvincingly. It took me almost a second to realize they were laughing at me.

"Is something wrong?" I spluttered...

"Dude talks like a ladeh!" The one called Squid hiccuped through guffaws.

Shit. I forgot to disguise my voice.

"Something wrong with your throat man?" The Armpit guy asked drunkenly.

_Shut up and die, you foul beast!_

"I have an infection." I whispered.

"He sounds posh. Like the Queen." Said the one with weird blonde hair. Great. I'm stuck with a bunch of idiots who think I sound like the Queen. Couldn't I have been sent to somewhere in Surrey? Where everyone would talk like me? I picked up my notebook and headed outside.

I probably looked like a mess. I don't do too well on buses. I hadn't seen a mirror in five days. I wondered if I still looked the same...Usually, I had brown hair. Just brown, not chocolate brown, not crap brown, just brown. Most people say I have pretty brown eyes, but I diverge. I shall remain by my statement they are an obscure shade of dark green. I plopped down onto the deck. I had some writing to do.


	3. The Digging of the Holes

_**Disclaimer: Holes and Ice Station do not belong to me. They belong to Louis Sachar and Matthew Reilly.**_

_**Queen of Pain in the Ass- Honesty, 'tis the best policy. Maybe, just maybe, I shall improve...**_

_**TeaCat-Thanks for the review! And I agree with Zigzag's hair description, now that you mention it.**_

_**ArwenEvenstar83-Ah, great minds think alike...Thanks for your great review!**_

_**Bookwormtheruleyone-It took me thirty-five hours just to write your pen name. Heh. Thank you for taking the time to review.**_

_**And I just realised that Jarte's spell checker killed the grammar in Chapter 2! I'm going to fix it soon, sorry for any tears spilt when reading it.**_

Agatha Hutts crept commando style towards the door at the end of the corridor. Silence and speed were the to key factors of this mission. Two factors that she lacked. If anyone walked through that door she was dead. The backpack full of explosives strapped to her shoulders confirmed this. She continued on her way. After what seemed like an eternity she had reached the door. She reached out to push it open. Surprise. It wouldn't budge. If she tried again they would definitely hear her. The enemy would come to get her. Her unit had disabled the cameras and microphones. She knew that. Suddenly a voice emerged from one of the smaller side doors. Agatha leapt down behind one of the statues lining the wall.

"This simply will not do Ferry. You have failed, once again. It makes me wonder why you even got into the military." A cruel voice said. Agatha heard the door directly next to her open.

_Fuck no._

Quietly, she grabbed her gun. She knew what had to be done.

"What's this? A stray?" The cruel voice came again, twisting and contorting the words, making them sound like a foreign language. This was it. Agatha shot up and began shooting! There was no noise...For once Agatha had remembered to put a silencer on her gun! This would be easier than she thought. Then she saw the blood. She had hit two people.

Sure she had killed the owner of the cruel voice, Lt.Grundler, but she had also killed one of her own spies. Janelle Ferry lay dead, a bullet wound in her stomach, and near her ear. Agatha didn't know what to do. She had a job to get done, but she couldn't leave the young spy here, dead in an enemy camp...

_Fuck it. I've seen so many die before. Just get out of here alive goddammit!_

Her conscience died down. She began her journey back to the door.

_Deep breath Aggs. Just shove the motherfucker in and run._

And so it was. She took out her Rollbombe 30kg, and got ready. In one swift movement she thrust open the door pulled out the pin and rolled it across the floor! And after that, she ran. She ran like hell, knowing all she wanted to do was get out of there. She ran out of the building, and finally came to some large bushes. She had never heard the resounding 'BOOM' that had followed her escape. All she could hear was her mind, telling her to wait for the signal that said she could run back to her unit.

That signal never came. One man had seen her running. Stephano Lee crept up to a familiar clump of bushes, with a silencer in his hand. He was the best at what he did, and he wasn't about to let this...this _woman_ ruin everything for the ICG. He had her in his target, and his rifle was pointed right at the back of her head. Unexpectedly, a small voice crept into his ear.

_So you really want to do this? She's so young...And they'll hear you. Everything's so quite...Are you sure?_

**Fuck yes.**

He pulled the trigger. Unluckily for Agatha, Stephano did not have a bad aim. Nor did he have a silencer. So the shot that caused Agatha Hutts her life, her dreams and her family, rang throughout the night, loud and clear. Loud and clear enough for anyone to hear.

_The lights were flashing. They made my eyes hurt. Now the lights are making shapes. Mummy, why are the lights making shapes? Mummy, I'm feeling sick. No really, I'm not faking. The lights are back. Daddy where's my brother and sister? Mummy told me the lights took them away. She lied to me daddy. The lights aren't bad li-_

'BEEEEEEEEEEEP!'

What the hell! I flipped over on my bed and landed next to my belongings-chest with a dull thud. The boys around me were getting up, cursing, and half asleep. The one called Caveman seemed a lot more irritated. Maybe he was new...Nah. He didn't seem _that_ new (a/n-Letty can be oblivious sometimes). The other girls were getting up too. They opened the doors and dragged themselves outside. Did I mention that we got these free ultra-cool and ever so fantastic jump suits? Well, everyone except for Mairie. She was too tall for any of the uniforms, so she had to wear some of her own old clothes. I shall remember that event till I am old and grey. But I digress. I stumbled outside wearily. Dr.Pendanski, who I had decided was a stoner, had explained to us that breakfast was at 4:30AM. I was shocked and abhorred. You cannot have breakfast before 6:00AM. It's _unholy_ to do so! Annabelle, James and Louie looked quite disturbed as well, but Miche-er-_Mick_ and Mairie seemed delighted. So delighted that they decided to put James in a head lock and punched him in the stomach several times. Brutes. Everyone was walking into a cafeteria type building, so naturally I followed them. And by the time I was being served the so called 'food', I had begun to wish I hadn't. It was mushy, pasty, gooey, and everything that food should not be. It actually looked quite like something my little sister would have cooked, AKA Stuff not fit for human consumption. I held my tray and followed Louie, who had been in front of me. We took a seat with all the other people from the D 'Tent'. It seemed that Mairie was deep in conversation with the guy called X-Ray.

"Fuck yeah, he was a fag. But she was worse. She was a bitch!" seemed to be all she was saying. How vulgar. So everyone talked to everyone for a while, and I sat at the edge of the table. I made sure to cover my chest, because it had been sticking out recently. And I hadn't talked to anyone since the introduction incident. Eventually breakfast ended, and we were told (more like forced)to get into a line behind the doors of this place called the library. Note that it was only _called _the library. In reality it was a small shed with stacks of shovels in it. Finally it was my turn to get one. I got my paws on it...And dropped it almost immediately. What! It was damn heavy! After many minutes of struggling, I dragged myself and the offending shovel towards everyone else. They were walking to the area I had been looking at in the bus a mere 24 hours before. Okay, so we had to dig one little hole. It couldn't be _that _ hard. I found an empty space and started. The shovels tip hit the earth, but nothing happened. I tried again. Same result. Bloody hell! It wouldn't work. Suddenly I had a brilliant idea. I had been given a canteen, with a large lid. I could fill the lid with water, and pour it onto the ground to make it softer! But...It was boiling, and I couldn't waste my water. So I tried one last time to start a hole.

'K-Thunk!' went the shovel. And up went the dirt. Yay! My first scoop of dirt! I began to dig faster, because I was getting bored. And it was hard. I felt like a prisoner! Which in normal circumstances would have been all right, but I hadn't done anything wrong! It didn't help that Ms.Hartford was looming over us like a bloody bird of prey. Ms.Hartford was a middle aged woman, like the type you would definitely not mess with. She never actually _did_ anything, but the way she looked at you, you felt like withdrawing into a shell. It was probably her eyes. They were an extremely light shade of blue that almost made her look blind. She had a chiseled nose, and she was stick skinny. She was basically the opposite of her daughter, Belinda. Belinda was short, dumpy, and insecure. Maybe she took after her dad. But every time I think that a though comes into my mind: Who the hell would want to get it on with Ms.Hartford? Eeeeew! She was overseeing our digging, and the expression on her face made me want to chuck something sharp(and preferably made of steel) at her.

I had started my hole ages ago. Annabelle and I were the only ones left digging. I was going to collapse from exhaustion any second now. My hands felt like going on strike, something that all the willpower in me had done some 2 hours before. I thrust my shovel into the new hole one more time. Yes! I had finished my first ever hole! If Annabelle hadn't been there I would have done the happy moose dance! It was now 1:00PM. So that meant I had been digging for...6 hours! I trotted back to the campsite, and returned my shovel to the 'library'. Now what do I do? I looked around stupidly. Erm...Oh yeah! The Wreck Room! I remembered Mr.Armpit(tee hee) talking about it. So off I went. As soon as I entered I was bombarded with unnatural sounds and smells, like things that should be locked away forever.

"Heeey! Uh...Guy! You wanna play pool?" shouted a voice that sounded vaguely, but not quite, familiar. Before I had a choice, I was being dragged to the table by Armpit and the other guy...Squid, I think.

"So, you know how to play?" said the voice again. Apparently, the speaker was Magnet.

"Of course he knows how to play! Come on Logan, show us how good you are!" hollered Mairie, like the neanderthal that she was.

And that, children, is how I found myself with a pool stick in my hands. I got ready to start, but I'd never played pool before.

"Um...You're kinda holding it the wrong way round." muttered James. He looked like he had a head cold.

"You know what? Just go on without me. I..Erm...Have some stuff to do..." I said weakly. I made an oath to myself. I shall never play pool. Ever.

Out with the trusty notebook, yet again. I decided to recount my first official day at Camp No Lake.

_Friday 11th November, 2005, 1:34PM_

_I now know the joys of digging a hole. It was boring, sweaty and icky. I have blisters on my hands, and I was wearing gloves! I felt like burying myself in the hole, because it was that bad! And I have to do it again tomorrow. I also feel really bad. Why? Because Mum and Genevieve are stuck in some warehouse far, far away, and I'm sitting here on my new bed, complaining. Dads court case is in a few months, and he's all alone. And my brother is in some random place and he didn't even leave a note! Maybe he's been kidnapped. But that really wouldn't make any sense, because they've already got two fifths of my family. And I want to find out why we've been sent to a bloody camp for delinquents! Isn't it just a tad dangerous? We have one of those counseling session thingamabobs soon, so I'll have to make some stuff up. I also think that Mr.Sir guy is a pervert. I'm sure I saw him sneaking looks at Mairie's chest. Having written that, I shall now go smash my head into a large brick wall. Goodbye._

I closed the notebook in disgust and tightened my bandana. As I had written, I had some stuff to make up.

_**Yay for chapter 3! I may take a while to write the next chapter because I'm really sick. I can't talk properly. Oh yeah, and:**_

**_-Don't ask._**

**_-Either I, EbilGenius, does not know how long it would take Letty to dig holes, or Letty is just a really slow digger. You decide._**

_**And a Rollbombe 30kg is a huge bomb, but it's like a grenade in the fact that you let go of it and run.**_


	4. Where's Widdle James?

_**Today the wannabe gangster is doing the disclaimer for me.**_

_**Disclaimer: Yo yo yo ma homies, Holes belongs to ma brova Louis Sachar, and Ice Station belongs to a G-Unit called Matthew Reilly yo! Off da heizy!**_

_**ArwenEvenstar83: I have the flu. I hope you get better soon. Letty's name is Leticia Von Barron, Logan's just a name she's using. And yeah, she wears her bandana all the time, except for showers. Thanks for taking the time to review.:-).**_

**_Sorry for forgetting to put the in the rulers for the last chapter._**

_**Chapter 4-Begin.

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Dum diddly doo dah. Sitting in a circle doing nothing productive. Mr Pendan-no, _Dr._Pendanski was interrogating us to the point of harassment.

"Okay Mairie, since you're one of the new children, tell us about yourself. What do _you_ want to do with your life?" he asked, after many years spent telling us how we messed our lives up, yet at the same time telling us we weren't bad people.

"Aw, I was born in London. Dunno where. Me parents was always movink. I went to school for a bit-a lot really- and then one day this guy, he came up to me dad and said somefink, and then he had to go to jail. Dunno what he did or nufink. And stuff happened wif me mum. I usually live wif me grandad, but he's on a business trip. He was supposed to pick me up but they sent me here. I dunno..." Mairie trailed off. I know it sounds horrible but her story really didn't seem to affect me. Maybe it was because I wasn't used to feeling what she felt. Or maybe I just genuinely didn't care.  
"Okay...Mairie...I think you've said enough today." Dr.Pendanski chirped. Yes, chirped. "Louie, what do _you _want to do with your life?"

"My p-parents work f-for the g-g-government. They have really a im-important job t-to do r-right now. S-so I'm just h-here for the time b-being." stuttered Louie. He only stutters when he really hot or really cold. You learn things from stalking random people.

"I-I really w-want to be a-an accountant. I-I like n-numbers. No g-good with them th-though." he managed to say. He was lying. He was _very_ good with numbers. I'd seen all his school reports. What! His filing was shoddy! You can't expect me _not_ to have read them!

"At least you know what you want to do Louie. I respect that." Dr.Pendanski said. What an idiot. "I think it's getting late boys-_and_ girls. You'd best be heading off to bed." he finished. We all stood up and somehow, just somehow, made it to our beds before collapsing into a dreamless sleep. Pfft. Dreamless. Yeah, whatever.

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_It's DAN! The sultana man! He wears a can! Yeah! It's Dan, The SULTANA MAAAAAN! He wears a ca-_

"BEEEP!"

Once again, I fell out of bed. Checking to see if my bandana was on, I stood up. I would have to take it off to shower today, and it wouldn't be pretty. I tightened it around my neck and got up. If today was going to be anything like tomorrow, I would probably go mad. And if I had known what was going to happen after I came back from digging, I might as well have thrown all my marbles away right then and there.

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Morgan 'Montana' Lee paced furiously up and down in the isolated building, which stood in the middle of an island reserved for the ICG. The small man sitting buy the desk was getting irritable due to this. It showed. After crossing out the twelfth sentence in a row he had had enough.

"Hey, Monty, you mind keeping the hysterics to a minimum?" he asked.

Morgan turned his head around. He was a dangerous man, and he had been, ever since the marines incident.

"Have you got a problem with my _hysterics_, Baldwin?" he snarled angrily. He was thinking, and when he was think he _hated_ being interrupted.

"N-no. No Sgt.Lee. S-sir." Tom Baldwin spluttered. Morgan Lee was not a man to be messed with. Morgan went back to thinking about something or other. Baldwin turned back to his work. Tom Baldwin was short. Really short. At exactly 5'0 he was the shortest man in the ICG. And at 6'2, Morgan Lee, his Sergeant, towered over him. Baldwin had a round face that had uneven blocks of freckles all over it, and he wore thick glasses. And with his flat blonde hair and breeches, he pulled off the high school genius look quite well. But if there was one thing Baldwin knew, it was that this was not an advantage at the ICG. He sighed and continued to write out letters to people he would never meet.

Morgan had just hit a loophole in his thoughts. He had the two Von Barron women. But the brat said she had a sister. When he'd looked it up, there was only a mother, a father and two kids. A brother and a sister. Maybe the kid was deli-wait. He darted over to the computer, and typed 'Von Barron' into the victim search screen. Sure enough, the data was there. He entered and searched through the instructions. Just as he'd suspected. His men hadn't read them. Clearly, on the first line, were the most important instruction of all.

_Wendy Von Barron-Close ties to main target. Not an immediate threat. Leave well alone. Failing to do so could spark realization to the main target._

"Damn it!" Morgan shouted! He tipped the whole desk over, causing the computer to smash, and stormed out of the room, leaving a certain Tom Baldwin looking very alarmed.

* * *

_**Back to Letty's Point of View**_

I had just come back from digging a hole. It was a warm, sunny day, and I still had a bit of water left in my canteen. So naturally I felt like murdering someone. Today I decided to just go to the 'Wreck' room and observe. Maybe I could learn how to be a boy. Throwing my shovel toward the pile next to me(I think I hit someone) I followed Mr.Armpit in. I accidentally almost said Mr.Armpit out loud once, but he was too 'gangsta' to notice. Once I got inside I saw a very strange sight. Mr.Zigzag(Yes, Mr. So what? They'll never know) was watching television. Normally, this would have been all right, but seeing as the television was smashed, therefore broken, the was just a screen full of static in front of him, rather than a clear picture. I moved out of the doorway to let some people past. They were ex-Hartford students. I could tell because firstly, half of them were girls and people I could recognize, and secondly, they didn't attempt to poke me/spit on me/smash my head in. As usual, the anima-er, people I had to share a slum/room with were around the pool table. One thing I remember about the evil pool table was that it had a rich history of fans, because of the markings on it, such as 'Snake' 'Hairy Feet' and 'Phlegm is a manwhore'.

"Yo, Blimp! How long've you been playin'?" Mr.X-Ray asked Mairie. Wait a second...Blimp! Now she had a nickname?

"Three years, I fink." she replied. Ha. I doubt she _can_ think. Annabelle and Mick were standing beside her, each with pool sticks, or whatever you call them, in their hands. Louie was drawing something on a piece of paper I had lent him. Or he could have been writing. His handwriting was the equivalent of a normal persons drawing, you see. James wasn't there, so I assumed he was in the 'tent'.

I walked over to the corner and smashed down onto the floor. I'd had my shower, you don't need the details. Yes, you do actually. There's this shower block that seems pretty new, so no one saw me without my bandana. It's grubby though. When I sat in that corner, something occurred to me. I missed England. What was I even doing here? I wasn't going to find anyone. It wasn't my fault Hartford got demolished. Just because some girl poisoned one of the cafeterias and parents complained. Bloody hell, two months ago I was just like any old kid. The girl who had fights with her brother and sister, who tried her best to fake sick to stay away from school, and never ate her veggies. It was my second day, and I was losing it. I needed a way to vent my anger...Ah ha! Drawing! If Louie could do it, so could I. I flounced out of the Wreck room and into the 'tent'. But as I opened the door, something strange hit me. Where was James? He wasn't here, and he wasn't in the Wreck room. Meh. I didn't think much of it. Maybe he went to the toilet. He'd taken his shower, I know because we all had. I got out the trusty notebook and drew a flower. Then I crossed out the flower and drew a chocolate bar. And finally, I tore the piece of paper out of the book and ripped it into a million pieces.

'Clink' went one of the beds in the other corner. I sat bolt upright. Something...Something had moved. Being the brave, courageous person that I am, I dived behind my bed and cowered like a baby. After a few minutes I got up again, and decided to see if it was nothing. I could see a silhouette...Of a person! Oh...It was just Mr.Zero. Suddenly it dawned on me. I had ripped the piece of paper quite aggressively. He probably thought I was some kind of mad woma-er, mad man. I backed away slowly, knowing he wouldn't talk to me. Bejeebus, he was creepy. I tried to calm myself after that, and sat on my bed while he sat there, still as anything.

_Calm, Letty, he's more afraid of you, than you are of him._

I got out a book after about fifteen minutes, because if I hadn't I was afraid I might destroy something. Something that could bleed. I read for a very long time. I know _this_ because eventually people started coming in. I would tell you what they said, but I was sooo tired, so I wasn't listening. I got into bed and fell asleep soon after. The last thing I heard someone say before doing so was Mr.Caveman saying

"Guys...Where's that James kid?".

* * *

_**Dun dun dun...Actually, no one cares about James, so I'm just...experimenting...With this. Yay! I finally introduced a plot! And just so you know, I hate Montana. He's an evil scumbag, Santa Cruz killing monster. Whaddaya mean, I'm the only one who cares about Santa Cruz! Just because he had basically three or four lines in a 611 page book! Poor, poor Santa Cruz. Eh heh...I'm talking about Ice Station by the way. ((End of useless rant))**_


End file.
